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Carlos Polimeni, �Bukowski for Beginners�

Started April 25 � Finished April 25, 2005; 156 pages. Posted 20 June 2005

Funny that I should be reading this now, since I have 30 Bukowski books that I�ve finished on my shelf.

Beginner. Sure.

These Beginner Books pre-dated the now passe craze of the idiot and dummies books, but they usually concentrated on things that you are forced to read in schools, things like Freud and Jung, Plato and Aristotle, Marx, Nietzsche, the Jewish Holocaust and the U.N. So to see a cartoon drawing of Bukowski in a dirty skull cap sticking three fingers down his throat with a bottle of wine next to his fat face is a little cool.

And of course, that�s what the publishers are counting on. Sure, there are a select few teachers and courses that might use Bukowski as source material, but I sure as hell haven�t taken any of those courses. To me, this seems like the first book in the series actually geared for people who probably aren�t having a hard time understanding the source material.

Then again, perhaps it is. Filled with cartoons and words that for the most part don�t shoot higher than using two-syllable words, this is a literary biography for people who drink so much that they can�t read an actual biography. This is a bio-piece on a drunk made for lightweights, the equivalent of going into a dive bar and ordering a Blue Hawaiian.

In any case, at least this doesn�t get into the romanticizing of alcohol that you sometimes get from Bukowski novels � when you�re fifteen and don�t know any better.

It happened to me, and why wouldn�t it? A life of being writing and being rude, surly, drunk, and still managing to get laid? Who the hell wouldn�t want that kind of life?

I got a fan letter from somebody in Thailand about my book, and the guy said I reminded him of less asshole-ish punk Bukowski. That�s actually the second Bukowski comparison I�ve received, and to tell the truth, I haven�t heard that much in the way of feedback so that makes the Bukowski name-dropping ratio pretty high.

I suppose I could do worse.

The funny thing is, I don�t consider myself much of a drunk. My roommate is working on a documentary about the S.J. Drunks, and I�m not on the list of people to be interviewed. One of the reasons is that I�m quiet. You don�t see me shouting lyrics for Pogues songs at the top of my voice in a bar where there�s no music playing. I keep my pants on. And there are plenty of stories about me talking to crowds of people, them convinced that I must have just arrived at the party as I seemed completely sober, only to turn and walk into a tree that I was certain was on either side of me, but nothing is on film. I protect my image.

But to tell the truth, I think I�ve talked up my alcohol consumption. You, as casual readers or acquaintances, may not have realized that. Hell, even my mother, who reads these pieces, once added on an admonishment to her regular litany of how I shouldn�t smoke or curse so much.

�And you shouldn�t drink as much as you do!� she said. �I didn�t raise you to be like that!�

�Isn�t that the point?� I said, �Isn�t it natural for children to rebel against the parents?�

That was a weird conversation to think about when it was over. My mother wasn�t plotting an intervention, but she was obviously concerned enough to bring it up. Of course, the media with their telltale signs easily manipulates her. I still remember coming home as a 17 year-old and seeing copy of the �I�m mad as hell and I�m not going to take it anymore� form of parenting with the Tough Love manual. I cracked open the book and read through the majority of the text, paying attention to the passages she had underlined.

Behavior patterns she had noted included:

Prognosis: Heroin addict.

I did an intervention of my own, sitting her down and showing her my cigarettes telling her this was the only drug I used with any regularity. She tried to look disappointed at the site of the cigarettes, yet couldn�t hide her relief that I wasn�t skinpopping.

But look at the list again and see how many of these apply to you. That�s right, the experts think you�re on heroin. And let me just start this dialogue by saying how much we all love you, and that we�re just concerned about your well-being.

That�s been my problem with groups like Alcoholics Anonymous. They oversimplify everything and their list of warning signs seems ridiculous. Consider the so-called telltale signs of an alcoholic.

These rules never made sense to me. I drink by myself because I�m better company than most people. It seems that a person who can�t walk away from a half-full drink has more of a problem than one who does. And have you met other people?

The biggest reason I don�t consider myself to have any kind of problem with booze comes down to a simple factor � I�m far too lazy to stay on a consistent bender. It�s like the line in the Bukowski-penned Mickey Rourke movie Barfly: �Hey,� Henry says, �anybody can be a non-drunk. It takes a special kind of talent to be a drunk. It takes endurance. Endurance is more important than truth.�

I don�t have endurance. But I�ve lived with true-blue alcoholics, the kind that shiver and curl up on the floor and howl because they haven�t had a drink in eight hours. It�s a frightening thing to watch. It�s also more than a tad pitiful, and I don�t need your pity.

So mom, the person from Thailand, and anybody else who may have had some concern, I�d just like to say you don�t need to worry about it. I like alcohol. Newcastle tastes a hell of a lot better than diet coke, unless said diet coke is mixed with Jack Daniel�s. And yes, booze does make me funnier, a better dancer, and I can kick anybody�s ass who says differently. But although temperance isn�t my middle name, my middle name is Cameron, which is pretty goddamn temperate. Relax.

And just to drag out an old joke, the biggest reason that I can�t be an alcoholic is because alcoholics go to meetings. I�m a problem drinker.

Oh, and by the way, I drank five Newcastle�s while typing this. What?


Rating: Worth working in a used bookstore and getting for cheap.

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